by Jim Hallaux
As the relationship grew, sometimes Merri’s roommate, Sammi, left the room for a couple of hours. Merri and Tom never went to his room. Merri trusted him but she refused to be ‘locker room’ gossip among the guys. No way.
Larry knew about their relationship but dealt with it in a detached sort of way. It came up a couple times in Tom’s counseling sessions.
“Tom, what I’m telling you is that the Job Corps has a firm policy against classmates dating.” Larry stated the official policy.
“I know, I know . . . you told me before.”
“And I’m also telling you,” Larry said off the record, “that this girl is one in a million. You’d be crazy to stop seeing Merri. Do you understand, Tom?”
“Yeah . . . I guess. I don’t want to get her in trouble with Job Corps.”
“Or anything else,” Larry added.
“Right, or anything else,” Tom agreed.
“Just keep it low key on the base, no hand holding, nothing ‘lovey-dovey’ and you’ll be all right.” Larry had said his piece.
“I will keep it low key,” Tom repeated. Even though he and Merri planned a rendezvous in Merri’s room that night.
“One last thing, this is a chance of a lifetime Tom. Don’t screw it up.”
“I won’t.”
What is there to say about happiness? So much easier to describe anger or conflict. However, you put it, they had it. Tom and Merri were happy. This relationship was the last missing piece to the ‘New’ Tom. He now had someone and something to protect, to build upon. Big plans for them both. Marriage not in the picture yet. Way too early. They hadn’t even talked about it, but they both thought about it. Tom in sort of a grand life plan he envisioned and for Merri a faraway dream.
Tom idolized Merri. In his eyes, she was perfect. Merri made a few changes in Tom. Got him to get a decent haircut. He and his roommate had been cutting their own hair to save money. Got him to wear nicer and more appropriate clothes. Suggested books he might read. Just a few (well, more than a few) minor changes.
Everything Merri suggested, Tom did.
As time passed, Tom and Merri took advantage of ‘Off Campus’ passes. Both did well in their classes and Job Corps rewarded them. They looked forward to their nights out in downtown Astoria. The banana split at the counter at Lawson Drug, a favorite for them. One time, they splurged big time and went to Sunset Empire Room for a steak dinner. The dark, bustling restaurant across from the Mill Pond was a serious date night. Seated, Cokes ordered, and menus given, Merri and Tom realized steak was out of the question. They couldn’t afford one steak dinner, much less two. Both ordered a hamburger, plain, no soup, no salad. They had a great time and it became a favorite memory for Tom and Merri.
On another night after a so-so movie at the Liberty Theater, they bumped into Tom’s parents. Almost walked right by them in the crosswalk. Fred Thompson and his wife Marjorie didn’t recognize the handsome young man with the pretty woman on his arm. What happened to their son? Was this really him? Introductions were made as the ‘Walk’ sign turned to ‘Don’t Walk.’ Marjorie couldn’t stop staring at Tom. Fred tried not to stare at the great looking young woman.
Tom’s parents insisted they go to the Fiesta Club restaurant for coffee and dessert. Fred and Marjorie were amazed that a young adult couple sat in the booth across from them. These two were not kids. Tom and Merri knew how to hold up their end of an adult conversation. Knew how to order and act in a restaurant.
The other thing, very evident, was these two were in love.
Tom excused himself to go to the restroom. On the way back, he stopped the waiter and asked for and paid the check.
“Merri, we need to get going. We can just make the last bus,” Tom said as he got back to the table. “Mom, Dad, great to see you both.”
“Tom, your Mother and I can drive you back.”
“Thanks, Dad, but we’ll take the bus. Nice to have a bit of alone time. And I got the check.”
Fred and Marjorie looked at each other in amazement as Tom and Merri hurried to the bus.
Now they knew why Tom missed a few Sunday dinners. They noticed other changes but had not seen this. Their son was a man now and in love.
They liked the new Tom and were proud.
And totally amazed.
The dense moisture in the air changed to grape-sized drops of rain pounding on the awning in front of Loop Jacobsen Jewelers. Tom and Merri ducked into the alcove under the awning hoping the rain would let up soon. They needed to catch the bus back to Job Corps. Merri giggled as she shook off her coat.
“I had a great time with your parents tonight,” she said. “They’re special.”
Tom looked into her eyes.
“You’re special.”
She smiled, and they hugged, Merri facing the display window of the jewelry store. A worker collected the various pieces of rings and necklaces and watches and a bright sparkle caught her eye.
“Tom, look.”
Merri pointed to an engagement ring, large and expensive, that flamed with brilliance next to a small Help Wanted sign.
“It’s beautiful,” he admitted.
“Someday,” she mumbled, her mind wandering to a dream of a future. “If I ever find the right man,” she teased as she smiled at Tom.
“The right man? Ouch.”
Merri giggled.
“Don’t you worry. I’ve found him.” She stretched up into his arms and kissed him.
“Good answer. Look, we need to get going.”
“Your right. We’ll be late.”
Tom looked over his shoulder at the display window as the worker collected the ring. Someday, he thought.
18
The Thompsons invited their son and Merri Sue to Sunday dinner, a big deal for all concerned. It would be nice for the parents to see their son, but Marjorie needed to know the young woman so important to Tom. Fred reminded himself not to comment on Merri’s good looks. A previous cold stare from Marjorie told him he mentioned this once too often.
Saturday before the dinner, Marjorie spent the entire day cleaning. The operating rooms at Columbia Memorial Hospital weren’t as clean as the Thompson household by the time she finished. The pending dinner was important to her.
Fred hid out in his ‘workshop’ in the garage the entire day.
Generally, Sunday was church day for the Thompsons. Bible study at 10, church service at 11 (Marjorie sang in the choir) and a coffee klatch following. Home about 1, Tom Sr would stretch out on the couch and doze through whatever sporting event was on TV. Marjorie would work in the yard or maybe take a nap herself, then make Sunday dinner.
But on this Sunday, Marjorie skipped bible study. Instead, she stayed home and made dough for the dinner rolls. She set the dining room with her best lace tablecloth, the good china, crystal glassware, and her Mother’s silver service.
Fred’s contribution was to make an unholy mess in the living room with the Sunday Oregonian newspaper.
“Fred, pick up that paper right now. And take your coffee cup and ashtray into the kitchen.”
Fred suggested it might be better if he spent the whole day in the garage.
Marjorie agreed. “If you can’t help, get out of the way.”
On the silent ride to the church, Marjorie imagined Sunday dinner in her mind. The first course would be tomato aspic, a Jell-O-like concoction, using tomato juice instead of water, with bay shrimp and celery. For serving, Marjorie topped it with mayonnaise. An unusual dish, and one that frightened small children.
The main dish would be fried chicken, Marge considered ham, but chicken seemed more welcoming. Mashed potatoes, corn, dinner rolls, and a green salad finished out the main course with tea and homemade lemon bars as dessert.
At church, Marjorie sang in the choir as Fred nodded off in the pew.
Dinner was set for 5. As if Merri wasn’t nervous enough, Tom’s grandparents were coming. Merri couldn’t decide which dress to wear, she only had two. In the end, sh
e borrowed one of Sammi’s. Merri had Tom stop and get his mother flowers on the way.
As they walked up to the Thompson’s front door, Merri noticed the manicured small front yard. Tom wanted to barge right in, but Merri made him knock first. His father opened the door.
Fred wore a ‘Modern Cocktail Apron’ with illustrations and recipes for ‘24 Cocktails’ printed on it. It was quite a sight.
Fred wore the apron over the white shirt and slacks left over from church. He loosened his tie. Marjorie bustled out of the swinging kitchen door. She too wore the dress from church. She had changed when she got home and only put the dress back on 15 minutes ago after she fixed her hair and makeup. Marjorie graciously accepted the flowers from Tom, knowing it was Merri’s idea.
Merri was glad she had dressed up.
“Well kids, what shall we drink?”
“Thanks, Dad. I guess water for Merri and me.”
“Come on, water? Let’s get adventurous! I know, I’ll make us Apple Blossoms.”
“Can’t Dad. Job Corps doesn’t allow drugs or alcohol.”
“Oh yeah, right.” Fred couldn’t help thinking how much money he would have saved on car insurance if Tom had taken a temperance pledge in high school before the two DUI’s.
They all sat down to chat and catch up. Merri ate a few of the cocktail peanuts strategically placed in small dishes around the room. After a few minutes, Marg got up, saying she needed to do a few things in the kitchen. Merri followed her through the swinging door.
“I’ve got to get this dinner going or we won’t eat till midnight. Merri, if you want to sit at the table and keep me company, that would be great.
“Dear, what I do with fried chicken is mix up flour, salt, pepper in a brown paper bag and then add the chicken parts and shake it like crazy.”
Merri would have added smoked paprika to the flour mixture, but she kept that to herself.
“Then, and here’s the secret, I take the chicken pieces out of the bag, put them on a plate and into the fridge for 20 minutes.”
Merri nodded in agreement. It was how her Mother taught her. The time in the fridge made the coating stick to the chicken creating extra-crispy skin.
“Then I fry it up in Crisco in my Mother’s cast iron pot.”
Merri would have used lard, but Crisco would work. And a well-used and seasoned cast iron pot was better than the cheap aluminum pot Merri and her Mom used.
As Marjorie busied herself, Merri noticed the salad fixings setting on the table. Without asking, she washed all the produce, found a cutting board, and sliced the carrots, celery, shallots, and tomatoes.
Marg pointed to the cupboard where the new ‘Salad Spinner’ sat. Merri had never seen such a thing.
“It’s for washing the lettuce. My in-laws gave it to me last year for Christmas. A strange gift, but it works great.” Marge was right, it did work great.
Next, Merri washed and peeled potatoes and set them in a pot of cold, salted water on the stove.
Tom’s grandparents arrived, his grandfather tall, holding his briar pipe, dressed in his Sunday best cardigan and tie. His grandmother, short, almost tiny but round. After the introductions, she followed the women into the kitchen. The grandfather joined the men in the living room in front of the TV.
Tom’s grandmother, Alice, handed Marjorie a can of black olives completing Sunday dinner protocol. She always brought olives and only olives. Marjorie did the cooking.
Alice and Merri hit it off right away. Alice saw in Merri the same beautiful, confident young woman she was at the same age.
To Merri, Alice’s husband Wayne seemed the tall, silent type and Alice, the small, vivacious type. And that worked fine for Merri. She found out more of the Thompson family from Alice in 10 minutes than she pried out of Tom since they met.
The potatoes done, Marge asked Merri to mash them.
“Here’s the butter and the cream, dear. Sometimes I use butter, sometimes cream. You decide.”
Merri used both. Alice noticed, smiled, and nodded in agreement. The whole point of mashed potatoes was excess.
Dinner went well. Merri got the men and Alice to the table and helped Marge bring out the food. Hands held, heads bowed, and grace said. Something new for Merri. Everyone enjoyed the food and complemented Marjorie, who shared the credit with Merri.
The ‘Tomato Aspic with Bay Shrimp’ challenged Merri, but she dutifully took a bite and then another. And she liked it. Hard to believe a savory, seafood Jell-O dish would taste good.
Years later, Merri would make this dish for her kids and grandkids at every holiday dinner. And they all hated it. At first.
Tom and Fred insisted on clearing the table which of course made a bigger mess. The kitchen went from crowded with pots and pans to a disaster zone of pots, pans, plates, serving plates, utensils, and glasses. Wayne showed the good sense to sit in the living room, smoking his pipe.
“All men out of the kitchen. You too, Alice.” Marge said this in a loud enough voice to cause an immediate exodus. Then she and Merri went to work. Everything stacked appropriately, leftovers into the refrigerator, all the pans, dishes, utensils and glasses hand washed, dried and put away.
Fred gave Marge a dishwasher last Christmas. Poor Marge couldn’t get a break from the Thompson family on Xmas gifts. And she didn’t think the dishwasher did all that great of a job. For the good china and glasses, she would rather do it herself.
Coffee, tea, and lemon bars were served and shortly after Tom’s grandparents left. It turned out they were Bonanza fans and didn’t want to miss the next episode. Like his parents, Fred faithfully watched Bonanza every week. He and Tom headed for the living room and the TV.
Merri and Marge retreated to the kitchen and over a cup of tea, in the glow of a job well done, a bond struck. Woman to woman, members of an extended tribe. Merri learned more about the Thompson family and more importantly about Thompson men.
That bond between these two women lasted until Marjorie’s death.
19
November 18
Penny had caught Merri Sue as they walked back to their rooms after class.
“Hey, Merri do you want to go to the movie? True Grit’s showing. It’s the last night.”
“Gee I’d like to, but Tom and I went last night. We’re going into town for a burger at Arctic Circle. Do you want to come with us?”
And there it was… again. Penny couldn’t get time alone with Merri. Not since Tom came on the scene. What little time she got was always Merri, Tom and the 3rd wheel, Penny.
“That’s alright, Merri, we can get together some other time.”
That other time wouldn’t be for a week or two. And it would be a hurried cup of coffee at best, rushed because Merri and Tom had to go or do something. They always invited Penny along and she went at first, but they didn’t really need her. They were just being polite. Merri and Tom were in love and there wasn’t room for anybody else.
Tom was nice enough and Penny was happy for her friend. But she missed Merri. Having a good friend to talk with and share all the things going in their lives. Now that was gone.
Lunch with Merri used to be the favorite part of the day for Penny. Gossip, laughter, nothing serious; that would come later in the day, after classes. They would go over the day and plan for the next and beyond. Big plans, where they would go in their lives and what they could achieve.
Now at lunch, Penny was included just so Tom and Merri wouldn’t seem like a romantic couple. As if everybody didn’t already know. Penny thought she had made a mistake not rooming with Merri. It seemed like a good idea. Better for the friendship. But now it was Sammi that Merri would confide in after lights out.
Penny wasn’t jealous of Tom or of his relationship with Merri. Although she couldn’t come up with a better name for her feelings. She was happy Merri had found a nice guy. But Penny hadn’t found her own nice guy.
Penny was back at square one. Always the ‘wallflower’ trying to fit in, to be a pa
rt of a group, to have a boyfriend.
And failing at it all.
And hating it.
20
November 19
Frank Van Winkle stared through the magnifying goggles at the pocket watch stretched out on the workbench, its intricate insides exposed. A goose-necked desk lamp, its green-glass shade hovering inches from the timepiece, cast bare white light on the moving parts. He was the third generation Van Winkle to work in the store. His father, Rip, walked behind him as he finished putting out the last felt-lined tray of jewelry to the display windows.
Frank was a gentle, soft-spoken man. Gray at the temples, his short stubby flat top stood up above the goggles with the help of a generous application of butch wax. The overalls were old and frayed. Martha, his wife, had threatened many times to throw them out, but he insisted they were just fine as they were. The elder Van Winkle wore a business suit, dark, with a white dress shirt, and a thin black tie. His eyes were not what they used to be, and he had succumbed to the reality that his repair days were over. Now he waited on customers while his son did repairs.
The hand-built wood front door hit a hanging bell as it opened announcing Tom’s entrance. He walked in confidently as taught at Job Corps. Glass countertops lined both sides of the store, the right one continuing ninety degrees into the room separating the front of the store from the back. Through a broad archway, Frank’s work area flanked the left side. Centered on the back wall was a five-foot-tall floor safe, its door ajar.
Rip approached.
“How may I help you?” The older Van Winkle asked.
“I saw your sign in the window. I want to apply, sir.”
Tom shook hands firmly with him.
“I’m Rip Van Winkle.” He saw it on Tom’s face. The same look he always got. “Real name is Jonathan, but kids are cruel. ‘Rip’ stuck to this day. Even Mom, rest her soul, called me Rip.”
